Invader Zim and the Kri Society
by turbomun
Summary: It's the summer after the whole Florpus fiasco, and Dib can't exactly enjoy himself when he's being pestered by Zim nonstop. Then a spaceship full of Irkens calling themselves the Kri Society lands in the woods. Their mission: reform Irken society for the better, or die trying. Dib is all too eager to tag along, but this road trip may give him more than he bargained for...
1. Prologue

_A/N: So like. After being dragged kicking and screaming into this fandom, I had no idea that Zadr was a controversial ship? Some people say it's pedophilia because they see Zim as an adult, but he has no confirmed canon age, and I just can't see him that way. But just to be on the safe side: THIS FIC CONTAINS ZADR. A lot of other stuff too, but also Zadr. They're around the same age, it's all strictly SFW, but if you're violently opposed to Zadr, THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO BACK OUT._

_...anyone still here? Okay, so, if you're not violently opposed to Zadr, even if you don't ship it, I really hope you'll stick around. There's way more to this story than just that one relationship. Plus it's my first Invader Zim fanfic, and I'd really love your feedback on it so that I can continue to improve._

_The OCs in this story belong to myself, my friend Jordan, and my fiancee Rafe (neither of whom have AO3 accounts). Everybody is used with permission, except the canon characters, 'cause I really don't think Jhonen would approve of this lmao_

* * *

**Prologue**

As Mala dropped through a shaft towards the underside of Irk, she felt a familiar combination of relief and trepidation. Relief because she was leaving the cutthroat world of Irken politics behind, if only for a little while; trepidation because of the deeply ingrained warning that she was not supposed to be here.

_No grown Irken shall have contact with any smeet prior to their emergence from the larval phase._

There was a guard droned stationed at the bottom of the little-used elevator. It seemed to bristle as she stepped out in front of it, passing an information beam over her to interrogate her, then discovered from her PAK that she had special authorization from Tallest Miyuki to be here. It retreated with what she imagined was surprise.

"Don't worry," she murmured. "I won't be back for a while after this." As if it cared.

Access points to the reproductive and education facilities were so few and far between that every time she came here, she was pretty much forced to circumnavigate the entire area. She walked downhill, past the hatcheries, where smeets grew in tubes until it was time to decant them; past the upload chambers, where they were given their names, assignments, and the collective knowledge of all those who had come before them; and then into a seemingly endless corridor of doors placed at regular intervals, with an electronic sign beside each one that stated which particular group of young Irkens resided within. She entered the room labeled CRECHE-127AB without even glancing at its sign.

Inside the cavernous classroom, one hundred year-six smeets, all within one day of the same age, sat at individual desks, their heads encased in training visors as they worked their ways through countless war simulations.

127AB, like most creches, was destined for a lifetime of service in the Irken military. Most would end up as ordinary foot soldiers; a few would move on to become Elites, or possibly even Invaders; some might be shuffled into other roles, either because they showed flair in another field or, more likely, because they were being demoted for incompetence. But for now, they paid no attention to Mala, as was to be expected from well-functioning smeets. It served as a double layer of protection against familial bonds: mature Irkens were forbidden from making contact with children, and even if someone broke the rules and snuck down here, said children would have no instinct to interact with anything but their robotic creche-carers. Not a single child so much as glanced in her direction.

Except for one.

The very smallest member of the creche, sitting at the very last desk in the back of the room, had removed his visor almost before she'd finished walking through the door. His face lit up. "Mameen!" he exclaimed in a sort of loud whisper.

Mala smiled. "Zim."

He scrambled out of his seat at once, pausing only to shove his closest neighbor (second smallest in the creche) and hiss, "Skoodge! Mameen's here!" Then the two boys were stumbling over themselves to reach her, one fast and jerky, the other slow and plodding.

She obligingly knelt down to them, and Zim began to climb all over her. "Mameen, you were gone way too long this time!" he declared.

"It's nice to see you too," she chuckled. She came here as often as she could get away with, but being the immediate successor to the Tallest was an intense job, not to mention that she didn't want to draw undue attention by abusing her privileges too often.

Zim settled down on her knee. "You should just stay here forever."

"You know why I can't do that, Zim." Which didn't stop him from asking every single time she visited. Zim was an attention-starved child.

Skoodge, always the more perceptive of the two boys, observed, "Mameen, you're wearing different clothes today."

"Yes, that's right," she agreed. Her tunic was the same rusty orange color as always, but most of the additional equipment had been stripped from her ensemble, leaving her with just her gloves, boots, and PAK. "This is my Invader uniform."

Zim's antennae perked. "Invader?"

"I thought you didn't do that Invader stuff anymore," said Skoodge.

"Not usually." She toyed with the bead strung on her left antenna. "But we're shorthanded this year, and apparently even the trainees we do have aren't promising. So the Control Brains have asked me to tutor the new recruits, and possibly join the coming invasion if the need arises."

Skoodge nodded at once, but after taking a moment to process that, Zim scowled. "Are you saying that you have to go away again?!"

"For a while," Mala admitted. "I wanted to come and say goodbye before I left."

Zim leapt off of her knee. "This is stupid! They should just let _me _be an Invader. I could teach those trainees a thing or two!"

"Yes, well, you need to be of at least jute age to become an Invader." She glanced up, trying to see if his outburst had attracted the attention of his creche-mates, but the other smeets appeared to be oblivious. "But I'm sure that you'll be a fine Invader when you're older."

She tried to swallow down the guilt she felt at telling him that, because she wasn't actually sure of it at all.

Something was very much wrong with Zim, far beyond him being so much smaller than the rest of his creche. His since of individual identity was too strong, and yet he was also far too fixated on his interactions with others. He questioned the rules too often, and broke the rules even more often than that. He'd been synthesized from archived DNA, just like everyone else, but long-suppressed Irken instincts seemed to have surfaced in him somehow. When she first came down here, to Creche-127AB, he'd been the only one to notice her (although he'd almost immediately dragged Skoodge along with him) and right from the start, he had referred to her by that antiquated word, _Mameen_. It was exciting to see an Irken who was so out of the ordinary, but it was nerve-wracking, too. Irkens with a couple of quirks (like her) could survive and even thrive; Irkens who went against everything that the Empire stood for were invariably declared as defectives and permanently erased.

Actually, Zim probably should have been erased far earlier than his sixth year. He was only still around because Mala liked him, and because Tallest Miyuki, in turn, liked Mala. As long as he remained harmless, nobody was going to invoke the Tallest's displeasure over a smeet.

(The now-infamous long blackout that had occurred on the day of his birth had always been suspected to be his doing…but Mala had successfully campaigned to block the Control Brains from doing a subpoena of his PAK, so nobody could prove it for certain.)

Zim was pouting, and Mala scooped him up and squeezed him tightly. She knew that she shouldn't be encouraging his rebellious tendencies, but when she looked around at the Irken Empire, at what they were doing, what she was a part of…well, she couldn't help but think that the more Irkens with a nonconforming streak, the better.

"It's not fair," he complained, making no attempt to dislodge himself from her arms. "We barely get to see you even when you're here!"

"I know," she said. "And believe me, I wish that I could spend more time with you boys, but we all have things that we have to do. I have to get going to Planet Devastus; you two have to stay here and train."

"Bye, Mameen," said Skoodge, who looked slightly downcast but wasn't making a big production out of it like Zim. "Have a good trip."

"When will you be back?" demanded Zim.

She set him down lightly on the ground. "I'm honestly not sure. It will depend on whether or not I have to take part in the invasion. Oh, don't look at me like that – you know that you'll see me again! In the meantime, please be on your best behavior. Skoodge, keep up those excellent simulator marks! And Zim…"

He looked directly into her face, his round red eyes fixed on her aristocratic green ones. She tried to think of a way to tell him to stay rebellious, stay nonconforming, but even if there hadn't been electronic ears all over the place, that kind of thing was dangerous to say aloud. Any disquiet she felt had to be dealt with on the inside.

"Keep asking questions," she finally said. "All right?"

He blinked. "Of course! I, Zim, will ask shmillions of questions while you're gone!"

"Good."

Reluctantly, she straightened up. "I had better get going now. Goodbye, boys! Mameen loves you!"

"We love you too, Mameen!" they called in unison.

She offered them both one last smile. Hearing them say that always gave her the warm fuzzies – a feeling that she tried to hold on to as she prepared to face her serious work once more.

* * *

At the port atop the Tallest Tower, where only the Elitest of Elites were permitted to dock their ships, Mala strapped herself into her voot cruiser. Her instruments were up-to-date and ready to go; the ship's engine purred around her. She reached out to touch the comm screen. "Computer, open a connection to Tallest Miyuki."

Miyuki's face appeared almost at once, smiling her disarmingly gentle smile. "Mala! Have you taken off yet?"

"I'm about to. I'll check in with you once I land on Devastus."

"Of course, dear. Keep in touch – I'm always happy to hear from you. Now, you go and show those trainees what being an Irken Invader is really about! Make me proud!"

"Certainly, My Tallest." The two of them were close enough to be on a first-name basis, but it never hurt to observe the formalities on official channels. "I'll talk to you soon."

"And you'll see me even sooner, I hope."

"So do I."

Mala disconnected the call and initiated her ship's launch sequence. The computer was smart; it had learned enough from her that she hardly needed to do anything anymore. High Elites like herself always got the most advanced voots.

She had almost reached the edge of the atmosphere – her thoughts circling between the job ahead, her two unofficial children, and what she'd be working on after she returned – when the missile struck.

There was no warning – just a sudden punch of metal against metal, then the floor of the voot crumpling upwards. In half a second, she was pinned against the ceiling by an eruption of crushed metal, her pulse thumping in her throat, the engine audibly laboring; and then there was no sound but the whistling scream of the air as she plummeted downwards.

Mala struggled to eject herself through the windshield, but she couldn't unpin her arms from her sides. She thought frantically: _This can't be happening. I have weapons detection systems and automatic shields. Why didn't I get an alert message? Why aren't any alarms sounding now? Has someone sabotaged my ship? But who could have possibly—?_

And then: _Whoever just attacked me could have set me up. Because that missile came from Irk._

She'd always known that being the immediate successor to the Tallest was a dangerous position, maybe even more trouble than it was worth. Now she was being plunged back into the cutthroat world of Irken politics in the most literal way possible.

Mala cursed whoever was responsible for shooting her down, cursed the whole Irken Empire for creating a society where this kind of thing could happen so easily, and most of all cursed herself for never being brave enough to do anything about it. If she got out of this – no, _when_ she got out of this, she would never allow her life to end in such a dishonorable way – she needed to get serious about her vague ideas of reform. She had to create a safer place for her people…for her children.

_I hope that Zim keeps asking questions._

That was her last complete thought before the booming crunch of impact, the world lurching upside down, and finally, silent darkness.


	2. Your Best Frenemy

Dib Membrane jerked awake in his bed with the impression of having heard things smashing and shattering nearby. He almost relaxed, chalking it up to a lingering dream…and then, two seconds later, he realized why it almost certainly wasn't.

_Oh, great_.

He lurched out of bed, padding rapidly towards the stairs on bare feet. On the way, he passed Gaz, staring at him coldly from her bedroom doorway with an expression that said, _You're responsible for waking me up way too early, and it's summer vacation. Fix it. _Like he hadn't done everything he could to prevent this.

In the living room, a familiar dog-suited robot was sitting on one of the built-in shelves above the couch, excitedly greeting the ceramic knick-knacks placed up there for decoration. Said robot was currently focusing on an inexplicable figurine of a fish with wings. "HI, FISHY!" the robot exclaimed, bending down to make eye contact with it. "Is you gonna fly?! I help!" With that, he flung it straight at the floor, where it predictably splintered into pieces.

The room's other occupant scowled. "GIR! Stop throwing those ridiculous Earth trinkets at me! I'm trying to complete an assessment of the Membrane household's technological capabilities!" he poked at a tablet of some sort that had emerged from the dome-shaped contraption on his back. "Hmm…interesting. This is surprisingly advanced…"

Then they both looked up and saw who was staring at them, none too impressed.

"Hi Mary!" exclaimed Gir, waving excitedly, then grabbing a book off the shelf and chucking it at Dib's head. Dib sidestepped, but still felt it graze against his ear before it plopped on the ground beside him.

Zim jabbed an accusing finger in Dib's direction. "You cannot stop us, pitiful human worm!" he announced.

"No, please, keep doing that," retorted Dib. "I really want to see you finally get banned from my house."

The words were hardly out of his mouth when he heard the tread of heavy footsteps behind him. He whirled around with the faintest glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Hey, Dad—"

Professor Membrane, his arms folded across his lab coat, shook his head sternly. He was surveying the dropped book, the broken fish, and all the other fruits of Gir's labors that morning. "Son," he stated, "I'm happy to see that you and your little green friend are having fun, but you need to learn how to be less destructive. Just look at this mess!"

"Huh?" Dib's eyes widened. "I didn't have anything to do with this! It was—" And he looked over his shoulder, only to see that in the infinitesimally small span of time before the professor had come in, Zim had yanked Gir down from the shelf and wrestled the doggie hood over his squirming robot's head.

"Yeah, _Dib_," Zim said, grinning wickedly. "You're always _such _a klutz."

Dib's hopes quickly plummeted, but he still turned back to his father, even knowing full well that it was a waste of breath. "Dad, Zim's…_dog _did this! His robot dog! He—"

"Oh, son," Membrane sighed. "When are you going to start taking responsibility for your actions?" He bent down, picked up the discarded book (_Membrane Memories: Twenty Years of Creating a Better Everything) _and shelved it reverently. "Since this was your first sleepover, and I'm sure you just got a little carried away, I'll let you off the hook with a warning. Now, you boys should come and get some breakfast while I get Cleanio-3000 to clean this up."

Membrane set off for the kitchen, and Dib stared after him, feeling more dismayed than disbelieving. He could have protest, said _I never asked for this "sleepover" _or _Zim isn't my friend_, but what was even the point anymore? It wouldn't make a difference. It never did.

Zim kept beaming his insufferable smirk at Dib. "You better hurry up and get in there," he said in a singsong voice. "We wouldn't want your dad to think that you're even more of a little delinquent than you already are!" Then he marched along with a gait that always made Dib grind his teeth: legs too straight, feet kicking up absurdly high. And of course, when Dib gave Zim the satisfaction of seeing how irritated he was, that was all the more incentive for Zim to keep doing it.

When Zim had vanished from sight, Dib stayed behind for a moment, rubbing his temples. Not very long ago, Zim would never set foot in this house, except in the direst of dire situations…but now it seemed like obnoxious was the new normal.

Dib's predicament had started in the wake of the Florpus disaster. It was the closest that Zim had ever come to destroying the Earth, the closest that Dib had come to being vindicated by his father, and it had all ended with…everything being exactly the same as before. Professor Membrane was still as dismissive as ever. The population of Earth seemed to have forgotten that anything had happened. Only Zim had emerged from the ordeal slightly different – and the differences were that he was more brazen, as well as more annoying.

First, he'd started showing up at the kitchen window to heckle the Membrane family during mealtimes. Dib could have endured that…but then, after a few days, his dad had straight-up invited Zim inside for dinner. Dib had thought that Zim would refuse. He'd been silently _begging _for Zim to refuse. But one look at the discomfort twisting up Dib's face had been all the motivation Zim needed to accept the invitation.

So that had sucked, but at least Dib would get a consolation prize in the form of watching Zim attempt to choke down human food, which might even (though probably wouldn't) tip off Professor membrane. Except that the universe had denied Dib even that one small pleasure, because for some reason, Zim could actually eat their food without being sick. Membrane had offered some vague explanation about his foot being "ingestible by people of all cultures"; Dib suspected that it was just because Membrane, who would occasionally lecture about the unsustainability was of the meat industry, always served vegetarian meat substitutes (indistinguishable from their fleshy counterparts) instead of the real thing. In any case, Zim was delighted by the food, and even more delighted by the way Dib squirmed through the entire meal. Thus, he started showing up more frequently, more for the latter perk than the former.

Dib had been tearing out his hair ever since then. This whole thing had just been reinforcing his father's delusion that he and Zim were friends, and Gaz was no help, either – while she wasn't exactly on Zim's side, she enjoyed watching her brother suffer far too much do anything. In fact, she even had a new threat for whenever he was doing something that she didn't like: "Do what I say, or I'll tell Dad to invite Zim over!"

Everything had come to a head last night, when Membrane had invited Zim to sleep over after dinner, seeing as how he and Dib were _such_ good friends and yes, of _course _Zim could bring his dog over, as long as it was hypoallergenic. (Dib was allergic to everything with fur, but evil robot slaves did not generally fit into that category.) Here you _go _boys, watch a movie, have some popcorn, play a board game, _enjoy _yourselves!...

Needless to say, it had been the longest night of Dib's entire life. And now here he was, the next morning, having been awakened by Gir tearing through the house, fully expected to go to the kitchen and eat breakfast with his mortal enemy. All in all, it was shaping up to be another intolerable day of summer vacation.

In the kitchen, Zim had already made himself quite comfortable, and Dib sullenly plopped down into the seat across from him. Somebody, either his dad or Foodio-3000, slid a plate of pancakes and bacon under his nose. He took listless bites while staring intently at Zim, hardly tasting the food. Zim had to be planning something big, but what…?

"What's the matter, Dib?" taunted Zim, leaning forward slightly. "Can't get enough of gazing upon my glorious appearance?"

Heat burst into Dib's cheeks. "What?! _No_!" he sputtered. "Q…quit trying to play head games with me! I know exactly what you're doing, and it's not gonna work!"

"Eh?" Zim arched a brow. "The only head games I am interested in are the ones that I'll be playing with your grotesquely large cranium when I sever it from your shoulders!"

Professor membrane chuckled. "Oh, you boys and your little rivalry…"

Dib kneaded his cheeks as if that would scrub the redness away. _I'm losing my touch_, he thought. _I can't keep letting Zim get me flustered like this_.

"Yes, human, cleanse your face of its filthy Earth-stink," said Zim. "Prepare your disgusting meat skin for the victorious hands of ZIIIIIIIIM!"

"Oh my god." Dib smacked his forehead against the edge of the table, feeling the cool laminate press against his hot skin. "Will you just stop?! Do you not hear how that sounds?!"

"It sounds like my victory!" shouted Zim.

Next to him, Gaz snapped off a piece of bacon in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and said, "No. It sounds like you want to run your hands all over Dib."

Zim's eyes bugged out, and his skin appeared to turn a paler, more sickly shade of green. "WHAT?! I…NO! Feeble-minded human, you are simply twisting the meaning of my words! I would never dirty my superior hands by soiling them with the likes of _Dib_!"

"That's not what you said just a second ago," Gaz pointed out nonchalantly, biting down on another strip of bacon.

At that point, Dib shoved out his chair and stood up. "Okay, I can't do this anymore! I'm done, I'm getting out of here! Bye, guys!"

"Son, it isn't polite to leave your friend behind during a sleepover!" called Professor Membrane.

Dib was already at the stairs. "Zim isn't my friend, and I don't care!"

He dressed himself in record time, snatched a random book off of his desk, and stomped out of the house – making sure to slam the door so that both Zim and his family would know exactly how he felt about them. If he had looked back, he might have seen Zim hastily slipping out of the house right about then, dragging Gir along. But the last thing that he wanted to do right now was look back.

Back in the kitchen, Gaz looked up at her father questioningly. "What's with them?" she asked. "I mean, they've always been weird, but now they're like…different weird. Or extra weird."

"Well, you see, daughter," answered Membrane, steepling his fingers, "there comes a certain time in a boy's life where he suddenly develops an interest in the opposite extreme of the gender spectrum, colloquially known as 'girls.' He begins to abandon his previous unscientific notions of these 'girls' as unsavory cootie reservoirs, and soon finds himself spending an increasing amount of energy thinking about, studying, and pursuing them in the hopes of forming a courtship. And in your brother's life, that time…will never happen, because he's obviously gay."

"Ah," said Gaz, pulling her GS4 out of her pocket.

* * *

During summer vacation, town was much too crowded during the day, particularly with children ready to mock their peers at the first provocation. So Dib took his book into the woods, planning to read beneath the cool shade of a tree.

It was a relief to be alone with his thoughts for a little while; at home, he often felt like he couldn't even hear himself think anymore. He spread his coat out on the grass – kind of hot wearing it around in the summer, but he had to look suitably mysterious – sat down, and opened up the _Encyclopedia Phatasmica_. Maybe he needed a break from stupid aliens. Maybe focusing on ghosts would help to clear his head.

But ten minutes later, he was still staring at the first page, while various uncomfortable thoughts chewed through his head.

_Zim's only made a few weak attempts at destroying the Earth since the Florpus thing. He's in my house all the time, I've had plenty of opportunities to capture him and expose him…so why haven't I?_

Because he wanted a fair fight? Because it wasn't the same without the thrill of the hunt? Because something would inevitably go wrong, so there was no point in even trying?

Or because he wasn't ready for all of this to come to an end?

One time, humiliated by his most recent defeat, Dib had decided to abandon his interest in the paranormal and study mainstream science alongside his dad. He'd lasted a few weeks. During that time, he'd missed so many of his favorite things: Mysterious Mysteries, zombies, vampire doughnuts…but the thing that had pushed him over the edge, that he'd decided he couldn't live without, was trying to catch Zim. And when he'd finally broken down and rushed to Zim's house, only to see Zim lazing around on the couch, had Dib caught himself that alien easily while he had a chance? Nope. He'd insisted that Zim get up and face him so that things could be exactly the way that they'd been before.

Was that why Dib was losing his mind over Zim hanging around the house all the time? Not just because he didn't want an alien hanging around in his personal space, but because it was different from normal, and he didn't like that? But if "normal" meant allowing a dangerous extraterrestrial to roam free and threaten the planet…

"Hunting Zim gives me more purpose than I've had in a long time," he said aloud, before indignantly recoiling from the thought. "What, what?! How can I say that?! My priority should be the safety of the Earth! A paranormal investigator getting purpose from an alien is just…sick!"

"Talking to yourself again, eh, Dib?"

Dib jolted – then immediately let out a long sigh. He should have made better use of his alone time while he still had it.

Zim sauntered up, tugging Gir along by a leash, while Minimoose – the member of the trio who'd been absent at last night's sleepover – bobbed along behind. "What are you plotting, human?" demanded Zim. "You wouldn't come to the wilderness of your own free will unless you had a trick up your tricky and disgusting human sleeve!"

"I was plotting to spend five lousy minutes without you bothering me," said Dib. "But now here you are, ruining it."

Zim stabbed a finger forward. "You won't get rid of me that easily! I will crush this planet beneath my heel, and _you_, Dib, will be forced to watch the subjugation of humanity before I subject you to excruciating torture and death!"

"Okay," said Dib. "Could you please leave me alone until you actually get to the whole crushing-the-planet-and-subjugating-humanity part?

Zim froze in the middle of triumphantly shaking his fist. "Eh?"

"You haven't really done anything in a while. You just hang around my house and annoy me."

"No I don't!"

Gir chimed in: "Yes you do!"

"Nya!" agreed Minimoose.

"I didn't ask for your opinion!" Zim snapped, before clearing his throat. "It's really none of your business, stink-boy, but if you must know…I'm conserving my greatest ideas for when the Almighty Tallest return."

Dib blinked. "Return from where?"

"Eh…I don't know," admitted Zim. "They just haven't been answering my calls."

Dib thought back to the Florpus incident. Zim's leaders, who apparently only flew in a straight line, had been piloting their armada straight towards the displaced Earth. Then Earth had been teleported back to its rightful place at the last possible moment, which would have left the armada directed towards…

"Um, are you sure that your leaders aren't dead from, like, being torn apart in that Florpus hole you created?" asked Dib.

"No, no, that can't be right!" Zim flapped his hand dismissively at Dib. "And even if it is, Irk would have chosen a new Tallest by now. No Tallest would ever ignore Zim, their greatest and most incredible Invader!"

Dib shrugged. He had to admit, it would have been weird for the Almighty Tallest to fly straight into the Florpus when they probably had ample time and equipment to avoid it. Either way, the end result was still the same: he and Zim were left with nothing to do but get on each other's nerves.

Zim began half-marching, half-pacing back and forth. "In the meantime, although I'm saving my brilliant plans for when I can show them to the Tallest, my important infiltration work continues. Now I have your father-human eating out of the palm of my hand! He will _never _believe you!" He belted out a maniacal laugh that, which was too loud and lasted several seconds too long.

"You're right," said Dib.

"OF COURSE I'M – wait." Zim stopped in his tracks. "You're actually agreeing with Zim?!"

"Yes, for once." Dib glanced down at the book that still lay open in his lap, as if taunting his inability to focus on it, and slammed the cover shut. "I know my Dad will never believe me. Even when he has proof right in front of his face, he either says it's fake or just thinks that it's all a dream. If the Florpus stuff didn't convince him, then nothing will. It's a lost cause."

"Oh." At first, Zim didn't see to know what to make of that, but then: "Yeah, it sucks when your authority figures just ignore you, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," agreed Dib.

The two of them looked at each other, and a strange, awkward sense of solidarity passed between them. It was broken after a couple of seconds, when Zim pointed mockingly at Zim and uttered, "HA!"

And then, as if the Earth itself had been shaken by that weird moment of them relating to each other, the ground began to rumble.

Dib sprang to his feet, but he was forced to grab the nearest tree trunk in order to stay upright. Zim, on the other hand, fell straight onto his butt. Gir and Minimoose started jumping around and squeaking, apparently having decided that this was a cause for celebration even as the very air thrummed around them.

Clouds of dust began gushing into the air, and Dib squjinted, trying to see what was going on – only to be rewarded with a blinding flash of light that rivaled the sun in brightness. He winced sharply, pressing back against the tree. The ground rattled and heaved, shaking faster and faster, until…

_BOMP!_

With one last concussion, everything settled down as quickly as it had gotten riled up. No more shaking, no more bright light, and even the dust was sinking back down; nevertheless, something was still different – and that something was the addition of a dome-like orange structure, curving above the treetops less than a hundred yards away.

"Eh?!" shrieked Zim.

"No way," breathed Dib.

For the first time in too long, his passion for the paranormal ignited within him, fueling the engines of his mind that had grown creaky from disuse. Now _this_ was a change that he could deal with – because right now, right in front of him, was what could only be an alien spaceship.


	3. Enter the Kri

Dib snatched his coat from off of the ground behind him, wriggling into it as he ran towards the ship. If he was going to be facing other aliens again, then he needed to look like a proper paranormal investigator while doing it.

After passing a few pummeled trees, the ship loomed up before him, glinting rust-orange in the sun. He hadn't seen enough ships to get a proper idea of this one's comparative size; it was bigger than Zim's voot, smaller than the Irken Massive, perhaps comparable in size to a large Earth house. That was about as accurate as he could get.

"I think that's an Irken ship," said Zim, footsteps crunching as he came to stand beside Dib. He brought out some kind of optical port from his PAK and squinted into it. "Computer?"

Dib just barely heard the computer's muffled response: "Ship is an IK-219 model Colonizer, size small."

Zim frowned. "That model of Colonizer was discontinued ages ago! And besides, the logo's wrong!"

Dib looked up. Sure enough, etched in silver on the ship's hull was a symbol, but not the Irken Armada insignia that he had come to know and loathe. At first glance, it just looked like a heart, but then he spotted a tiny pointed shape at the bottom and realized that it was a stylized Irken head with large, curving antennae. It was made up of sweeping curves – no harsh corners, no leering mouth. Acting instinctively, he whipped out the notepad and pen that he always kept with him, jotting down a quick sketch of the logo.

"Oh, great. What did you morons do?" demanded a familiar voice behind him.

Zim nearly jumped out of his skin, and Dib jerked around to find Gaz standing there nonchalantly, arms crossed, GS4 dangling from one hand. He frowned. "I didn't do anything!"

"Neither did Zim!" exclaimed Mr. Refers-To-Himself-In-The-Third-Person.

Gaz half-opened one eye. "Really? Something weird happened, and you two aren't the reason why?"

Gir peeked out from behind Zim and whispered, "I know…I'm scared, too."

The front hatch of the ship dropped open with a clang.

Dib hopped back, startled – then immediately leaned forward to try and see what he could make out of the ship's interior. It mostly looked like vague darkness…at least until a sharp humanoid shape, vibrantly colored, strode out to stand against the opening.

A female Irken glared down at them with deep purple eyes, as if she were looking at a film of pond scum staining her shoes. Dib's heartbeat spiked. She had swapped out her purple uniform for an orange version of the same outfit, and a silver logo matching the one on the ship's hull gleamed on her chest, but there was no doubt in his mind as to who he was currently looking at.

"Tak?!" he cried.

"YOU!" Zim shouted, clenching his fists. "You've finally come to seek your revenge on Zim, haven't you?!"

Tak cleared her throat. "I—"

"HAVEN'T YOU?!"

"I really wish that were true," she snapped, baring her teeth. "Zim! The leader of the Kri Society has requested your presence for a meeting, so come up here and let's get this over with!"

"HAVEN'T YOU?!"

"Wait, the what society?" echoed Dib.

Her eyes barely flicked over to him. "This doesn't concern you, human."

"HAH!" Zim puffed out his chest and smirked. "So you were too scared to come and face me alone, eh, Tak?! You had to join up with some…DOOKIE society, just to—"

She tossed up her hands. "You know what, I don't have to deal with this. He's all yours, sir!"

With that, she stepped to the side, not quite out of sight. A clunking sound rang out from within the ship – _metal boots against a metal floor_, Dib thought – and somebody else stepped out and stood before them.

Tak had said "sir," but he was almost certain that the newcomer was a female Irken; she had coil-tipped antennae, plus long, prominent eyelashes. That was the first thing he noticed. The second thing was how tall she was, definitely comparable to an adult human in height. Based on what he knew about Irkens and their height-based hierarchy, this meant that she was probably someone important (_a new Tallest, possibly?_). He was also struck by how…non-evil she looked. Her face, creased here and there with age, had a gentle expression that he wasn't used to seeing on Irkens, and her oblong green eyes held no nastiness or scheming. Her outfit (_orange again; what's with all the orange?_) was a more elaborate version of Tak's.

"This is a horrible idea, you know," Tak complained to the tall lady. "He's already insufferable."

"Tak, please, I don't need you to make this more difficult than it already is," the woman replied. She walked down the ramp and towards the gawkers on the ground. "…Zim?"

Dib managed to tear his eyes away from her long enough to peer over his shoulder. Gaz, standing directly behind him, looked as apathetic as ever, but Zim…

With his arms at his sides and his antennae flattened against his head, Zim's posture was more subdued than Zim had ever seen it. Not only that, but the way that his eyes were ever-so-slightly narrowed…it was as if he thought that he had seen this lady once, years ago, perhaps as a glimpsed face in the back of a crowd, and was now trying to work out just when and where it had been.

The lady smiled sadly. "You don't remember me, do you, Zim?"

Shockingly, he said nothing, only squinted a little harder.

"I'm not surprised." She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. "You were so young the last time I…well, I sort of expected that you wouldn't remember your old Mameen."

That last word had a visible effect on Zim; his brow furrowed, and his antennae flipped up slightly. "What? No," he said, in a bizarrely calm tone of voice. "You…you aren't _her._"

Her eyes widened. "You remember?!"

"I remember Mameen," he responded, somewhere between puzzled and defensive. "But you can't be her. I mean, she's sort of…dead."

"No. That's only what they told you."

"It's what I know!" Zim frowned deeply. "Some dissenter shot you – _her _down. I watched the trial on TV from the Smeetery. There was this little grub guy, he was so pathetic-looking, and Tallest Miyuki had him executed for the murder of her successor, and the creche-carers told us about how that's what will happen if we go against the mighty Irken Empire! And they dropped him into a pit full of starving, rabid prisoners of war, from—"

"The planet Blorch," finished the lady. "I know. He was devoured alive by slaughtering rat people. I'm not even sure who that guy was…probably someone that the Empire wanted to get rid of anyway…but he wasn't responsible for shooting me down. He was just a decoy."

"I thought he was a Meekrobian."

She sighed. "He was a _plant_, Zim. I mean, not the kind of plant that grows from the ground – the Control Brains were just using him to prevent Tallest Miyuki, and everyone else, from looking into the matter too closely."

He pushed out his lower lip and crossed his arms. "Lies! Lies and dookie!"

The lady was silent for a moment, pensive and resigned. Then: "The last time I saw you, I told you to keep asking questions. It's said to see that you've lost that inclination."

His antennae snapped back against his head, as if she'd just struck him.

Dib decided to use this break in the conversation to speak up. "Um, excuse me, but can somebody please tell me what's going on?!" He pivoted on his heels, turning to take in everyone's reactions, but apparently he was the only one who'd decided that this stuff was worth any attention. Gaz was fiddling with her GS4. Gir and Minimoose appeared to be playing pat-a-cake. Even Tak, standing in the ship's opening above them, looked bored.

The tall lady faced Dib, blinking. "Oh? I'm sorry, where are my manners?" She leaned over him and extended her hand. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Mala, former Elite Commander of the Irken Empire."

He regarded her offered hand suspiciously, then gave it a single, perfunctory shake. "I thought your name was Mameen?"

"No, no!" She chuckled. "_Mameen _isn't a name. It's an Irken familiar term for 'mother' – something like Mama or Mommy, if I've got your language right."

Dib recoiled. "_Mother_?! You mean…Irkens have parents?! _Zim _has parents?!"

"Of course not!" Zim interjected; it seemed that no matter how he was feeling, he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to contradict Dib. "Even if this…this so-called Elite is who she says she is, she is not Zim's mother!"

"No," she agreed, "but that's always what you called me, right from the start. Do you remember that? The very first time I went into the Smeetery, how you came up to me and asked, 'Are you my Mameen?' That feels like such a long time ago…oh, what was I saying before?" She shook her head. "Anyway, yes, my name is Mala. As for you, young man, would I be correct in the assumption that you are Dib?"

With a jolt, Dib stumbled a few steps back from her. "Why do you know that?!"

"Oh, I've been keeping tabs on the situation here for a while," Mala explained. "I had to make sure that Zim was really on this planet, so I got in touch with…my Earth contact. Anyway, you and Zim spend an awful lot of time together, so I know a bit about you…"

While he was trying to think of an intelligent response to that, Zim's mental state seemed to snap from befuddlement into anger. He marched up to Mala, jamming a finger into her chest – which was a long reach for him, but with some stretching, he managed to get there. "Hey, listen up, you…you supposed mother-lady!" he yelled. "You have some explaining to do! First you land on _my _planet, interrupting my glorious mission with your claims of being my Mameen! Then you say that Irk was faking your death, and now you admit to spying on me?! My Mameen wouldn't have just watched me from afar like that! She would have come back to me, her favorite and most incredible smeet, as soon as she could! You are dripping with disgusting, slimy lies! If you're really Mameen, then why didn't you try to call me before now, eh?! Eh, eh?!"

Mala stared down at him. "You don't need to speak to me like that, young man."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Zim shrank down under her gaze, cowed and obedient out of nowhere. Dib thought: _No matter what he says, he definitely believes that she is who she says she is. He never just bows over to anybody like that. But all this alien woman had to do was open her mouth, and he shut up like…well, like a kid being scolded._

Zim suddenly scowled at him. "What are you saying, human Dib?!"

"Huh?" Dib realized that he had been thinking out loud, muttering his conclusions to himself, and he flushed pink. "N-nothing! I wasn't saying anything!"

"The short answer to your questions, Zim, is that I was waiting to come and find you until I had made someplace safe for you," said Mala. "And now I finally have that place: the Kri Society."

Zim looked quizzical. "Eh? 'Kri'?"

"Kri," she repeated. "As in, the opposite of Irk. And we want you to help us save the universe."

He stared at her. "Irkens don't _save _the universe. We _conquer _it."

"Yes, well, that's sort of the entire problem." Mala waved her arm towards the ship behind her, where Tak was still lingering in the hatch, monitoring a readout on some kind of floating screen and looking singularly unimpressed. "If you'll come inside for just a few minutes, I can explain everything."

"I'm not falling for that one!" he declared. "You'll just take off the second I set foot in there, whether I want to come with you or not!"

She held up her right hand. "No tricks, Zim. I swear it on Tallest Miyuki's grave."

"…hmm…hmmmm…" One finger tapped rapidly against his chin. "…ugh, I guess so! But only because I find your fakery amusing! And a few minutes is all you'll be getting from _ZIIIIIIM!"_

Mala smiled, and for a fleeting moment, Dib wondered if that was how all moms smiled when they'd finally gotten past the token protests of their offspring. Having never had a mother, he honestly didn't know. "I appreciate that. Shall we get this over and done with, then?"

With that, she headed back into the ship, her boots clunking against the ramp. Zim hesitated, then called, "Gir! Minimoose!" and trotted after her. Her legs were so much longer than his that he practically had to run in order to catch up with her.

It didn't take long for Dib to decide to follow them. He still had no real idea of what was going on; the conversation he'd just heard had left him with more questions than answers, and for any half-decent paranormal investigator, finding out more was a no-brainer. Unfortunately, hie hadn't gone five steps before his path was blocked by Tak.

"Where do you think you're going?" she demanded.

"Oh! I, uh, I'm…" His tongue flailed in his mouth. Honestly, he'd nearly forgotten that she was still standing in the hatch.

"I don't believe that Elite Mala invited you inside," she said coolly. "And we have no business with humans." She shoved him back, hard enough that he struggled to keep his footing, and darted inside the ship to close it up.

Only when the hatch had mostly retracted did Gaz finally lower her GS4 slightly. "Are we done? Good, let's get out of here. It's hot and the bugs are eating me alive and…"

She looked up just in time to see Dib take a running leap at one of the trees overhanging the Kri ship, grab a high branch by the tips of his fingers, and swing forward to catapult himself onto the roof. He peered down at the nearly-closed hatch, evidently decided that the gap was too narrow for him to fit through without being squished, and promptly ran up and across the dome-like metal structure to try and find another way in.

Gaz clenched her fists so hard that the game console's plastic casing trembled and groaned in her hands. "_Idiot!_"

* * *

Everything resembling a door on the ship's roof was sealed tight, not responding to even the strongest of kicks, but that was only a minor inconvenience for Dib. Settling down cross-legged on the curved surface below him, which was pitted and streaked with the remnants of many rough voyages, he reached into the largest interior pocket of his coat and produced his laptop. Brute force had never been his style – why break when you could sneak?

The ship was an IK-219 Colonizer; he remembered Zim's computer saying so. He quickly accessed his database of Irken interstellar vehicles (courtesy of Tak's old ship, fortuitously downloaded before said vessel was destroyed during the Florpus incident) and located the relevant entry. Within a minute, he'd reached the outer boundaries of the Kri's computer system. Now he just had to wriggle past the firewall…which, he noticed, had been modified slightly, patched with imperfect-but-clever traps that might have tripped up a lesser hacker…but he soon made short work of that, too.

A window popped up on his screen: OPEN TOP DECK MAINTENANCE PANEL Y/N?

"Yes," he said aloud.

Nothing happened. He craned his neck, trying to see where the panel had opened, when a small trapdoor retracted directly beneath him and dumped him inside.

Dib landed on a narrow, rickety catwalk, which swayed like an ocean liner for several long seconds after his painful descent, leaving him to wait for several long seconds until he judged that it was safe to stand. The catwalk ran the circumference of the round room beneath him – the bridge, according to his database – and since a multitude of cables snaked across the ceiling above him, it was presumably used for repairing those, as well as for getting out to the roof if the need arose. He warily checked around for a ladder or staircase, not wanting to move any more than he had to on such a precarious perch, but then the sound of voices drifted up from below, and he realized that he didn't have to go anywhere: this was already the perfect place to eavesdrop.

"Well, that's convenient," he said to himself, before very cautiously laying flat on his stomach and staring straight down at the scene unfolding beneath him.

At first glance, the bridge looked like it was full of standard Irken equipment, but a closer inspection revealed that everything was worn out and oft-repaired. Just about every piece of technology showed signs of having been patched up and some point, and a few items looked like they were held together with nothing but electrical tape and positive thinking. And, of course, there were the Irkens themselves; Mala, Tak, Zim, Zim's evil minions, and four other figures dressed in identical orange uniforms, all of them clustered near a central console.

"Here we are!" Mala's voice rang out cheerfully.

Zim was clearly not very impressed with the ship; Dib couldn't get an accurate read of his facial expression from this height, but his tone of voice was unmistakable. "Ugh, look at this dump! Did you dig it out of the trash or something?!"

"Er, sort of," admitted Mala. "We salvaged it from the planet Garbagia. Anyway, Zim, meet the troops! There's Tak, of course, my First Officer; this is our Chief Navigator, Tee—"

"If he touches my console, I'm going to break his fingers," said a female voice, apparently belonging to an average-sized Irken near one of the computer screens.

Mala cleared her throat. "Our Head Technician, Blis—"

"Hi." This response came from a stout female Irken who lurked at the back of the group. "Please never talk to me again."

"…our Battle Strategist, Tenn, I'm not sure if you've met her, but she was also an Invader—"

"We were creche-mates, actually." Yet another girl's voice. The speaker this time looked remarkably like Zim, at least from a distance.

"Ah, of course, I should have remembered. And you definitely know Skoodge!"

"Hey, Zim!" Okay, so there _was _another boy here after all. A chubby but enthusiastic boy, shorted than all of the girls, who apparently was the only one actually excited to see Zim. "Welcome aboard! Wow, with you, me, and Mameen here, it's just like old times, huh?"

Zim sighed dramatically. "Oh, Skoodge, you're as gullible as ever. I supposed that you believed this faker as soon as she said that she was Mameen!"

"Um…she _is _Mameen." Skoodge was clearly confused. "Hasn't she told you about what happened to her?"

"I was about to," interjected Mala. She drew herself up straight, sweeping her gaze across he assembled crew members before settling on Zim. "You want to know why the Kri Society is trying to save the universe?"

He nodded.

"It's because, after years of tearing this universe apart and putting it back together in whatever way they choose, the Irken Empire has become more extreme than ever. They've appointed a new Tallest, who is planning to—"

"It smells like dirt pudding in here!" exclaimed Gir out of nowhere, yanking the green doggie hood off of his head.

One of the girls, Tenn, let out a bloodcurdling screech and flung herself under the nearest chair. "AIIIIEEEEE! GET THAT _THING _OUT OF HERE!"

"Oh, are we screamin' now?" asked Gir brightly. "I wanna scream too! AAAAAAAAAHHHH—"

Mala leapt into action, snatching Gir into her arms and clamping one hand over his face; he kicked his legs happily, probably assuming that this was all a part of some game going on in his head. When his shrieks had been sufficiently muffled, she asked with obvious concern, "Tenn? Are you all right?"

"…I-I…" Tenn slunk out from under the chair and stood up, her hands clamped across her own shoulders. "I…yes. Yes, I'm fine. S-sorry."

Mala hesitated, as if debating whether or not to go and assess her shaken-up crew member, then shoved Gir back at Zim. "Young man, please control your SIR unit. Tenn is…sensitive…about them."

"You hear that, Minimoose?" said Zim. "Keep an eye on your robot brother! And Gir, don't bother us while we're talking!"

"Yes, my Master!"

Mala dropped down into a large, cushioned seat that must have been the captain's chair, massaging her temples. Doubtlessly, she was starting to get an idea of what everyday life with Zim was like now. "Where was I…? Oh, yes, the new Tallest. He has decided that the Irken Empire should no longer just be content to rule the _existing _universe. So he's contact a plan whereby the Irken Armada, headed by his newly commissioned flagship, the Hypermassive, will completely destroy this universe and replace it with a new, worse one, in which Irkens will be not only rulers, but gods!"

Dib nearly stopped breathing. He'd dealt with Irkens attempting to destroy the Earth several times before…but now they were going after the entire universe?!

"What?!" exclaimed Zim. "That's…that's BRILLIANT! Almost as brilliant as something I would have come up with!"

Mala smacked herself in the forehead. "No, Zim, that's _bad_!"

"Eh?! Irkens finally ascending to their rightful place as ultimate overlords of the universe is bad?! My Mameen, loyal soldier of the Empire and successor to the Tallest, would never think so! I knew you were a phony!"

"Zim, even if I were still an Elite Commander, I still wouldn't approve of this plan!" she snapped. "Trying to replace the entire universe is idiotic hubris! It's physically and mathematically impossible for any currently known beings to survive something like that!"

"How do YOU know?" he challenged, crossing his arms. "Have you ever tried?"

"No, and I don't intend to! And even if we _could _survive it, life wouldn't be worth living, not with the Empire in control!"

"You speak of blasphemy, fake-mother! Why would my Mameen ever spout such _hideous _comments?!"

At this point, Mala had grown so agitated that she could no longer contain herself, and she sprang out of her chair like a bullet ricocheting out of a gun. "Because what I am _trying _to tell you is that the Irken Empire is responsible for shooting me down!"

Zim stiffened. In the blink of an eye, he was back to that odd, perplexed-but-eerily-calm state that he had exhibited outside, and up on that catwalk, Dib finally recognized this behavior as a way to avoid dealing with emotional contradictions. He'd never really considered the emotions of Irkens before – they primarily just seemed to be evil aliens whose only feelings were rage, bloodlust, and triumph over enemies – but now it occurred to him that the truth might be a bit more complex than that. After all, Mala was appealing to Zim by invoking a parent-to-child bond, even if she wasn't his biological mother. That implied that Irkens felt some form of attachment…maybe even love?

Now _that _was uncomfortable thought. He returned his attention to the exchange happening below him.

Zim said plaintively, "That's not true. Everybody respected you, and you were Tallest Miyuki's favorite! She would never have ordered you shot down!"

"You're right, Zim. She had nothing to do with it. You remember when I left you and Skoodge for the last time, how I was supposed to fly to Devastus and train a new class of Invaders? That was all a setup. The Control Brains went behind Miyuki's back to take me out of the picture so that I would never rise to power."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't meet their standards." Mala began to pace the floor. "I'm not like normal Irkens. I'm too…empathetic. It was never enough to get me marked as defective, because I was tall, I was strong, I always got the job done, I never moved so much as a toe out of line – but normal Irkens don't do things like, say, get attached to a couple of random smeets. So the Control Brains watched me, decided that I was a threat, and finally took me out of action."

He almost appeared to be considering this, but it was like his mouth couldn't stop running even while his brain was processing what he'd heard. "You're delusional. The Control Brains serve the Tallest! Everyone knows that!"

"Yes, that's exactly what they want you to think." With a sigh, she flopped back into her captain's chair. "My voot was shot down over Irk before I had even left the atmosphere. While the false trial to sate Miyuki was happening on the surface, I was held captive underground for years, being probed and examined. What was causing me to care so much about my fellow Irkens? What flaw had surfaced in such a high-ranking Irken as myself? If the Control Brains could find that out, then they could prevent it from ever happening again. But as long as they kept me alive, I could hope that I would escape someday, hating them more and more all the time. By the time I got my chance to break free, everything had changed. Miyuki was gone, few people remembered who I was, and you and Skoodge were off-planet. Staying on Irk would have meant recapture and death. So I set off and began work on…this." She waved her hand at the ship, her crew, and the Kri Society generally. "For you."

Zim's antennae lowered, then raised again. "For _me_?"

"For you and Skoodge and every other Irken who has worked hard and remained loyal, only to have Irk turn its back on them. That's who these ladies are – I met them during my travels, and recruited each of them once I learned what Irk had done to them. And now, finally, I've come to you. Because I'm your Mameen. Because I always wanted better for you. I'm offering you everything that I could never give you when you were my smeet. Will you accept it?"

There was silence throughout the bridge. Dib found himself waiting on bated breath to see how Zim would respond.

Then, finally: "…you do realize that I am Irk's finest Invader, right? If I went up to this new Tallest and offered to join forces with him, he would accept me without a moment's hesitation…"

For some reason, this statement provoked a lot of heated muttering among the girls, but Mala turned around and hushed them. "Let him finish."

"If I said I wanted to do that, what would you do to stop me?" demanded Zim.

"Nothing," said Mala. "It's your choice."

He mimicked her actions earlier and began to pace, treading a circle on the floor. After three or four rotations, he stopped abruptly and said, "Your falsehoods _do _intrigue Zim. And I need to make contact with this new Tallest before my infiltration of Earth can continue, and since he apparently doesn't know how to answer his communicator…"

He looked behind him at his robots; Gir was keeping himself entertained by playing with Minimoose's nubs. "What do you think?" asked Zim. "Should we travel with these inferior rebels for a while?"

Gir tilted his head. "I like Mameen! She's nice!"

"Hey, she's _my _Mameen, not yours! …eh, I mean…all right, then. We have decided to accompany you for the time being. But don't expect me to just turn my back on Irk and swear allegiance to your Kri Society! Zim serves no one but ZIIIIM!"

"I can live with that," said Mala, who stood up once more, placing her hand on Zim's shoulder. "Welcome aboard, my smeet."

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes — but, Dib couldn't help noticing, made no attempt to dislodge her hand. "You're lucky that I don't hop into my voot right now and report you all to the Irken authorities! Fortunately, these ideas of yours are fairly entertaining."

"I can share a lot more of them now that you're coming along," she promised. "All right, ladies and Skoodge, let's set a course for our next destination!"

There was assorted groaning from all of the girls, none of whom seemed very happy that Zim would be accompanying them. Only the other boy, Skoodge, seemed glad of the newcomer's presence.

Up on the catwalk, Dib's heart and mind were both racing. The conversation had revealed so many developments: non-evil Irkens! A resistance movement aiming to stop the Irken Armada! After standing against Zim for so long, he finally felt as if he had found a group of kindred spirits that might even listen to him and support his ideas. He could have a chance to not only save the world, but also the entire universe…

What was the Kri Society's plan? Could Zim really be convinced to turn to the side of goodness if his adoptive mother figure was involved? Dib _had _to know.

There was a sudden jolt, and the catwalk began to rattle softly beneath him — that must have been the ship's engine coming on. The Kri weren't wasting any time. Well, who would, when the fate of the universe was at stake? There was a time for sitting around and waiting, and there was a time for—

A hand reached out and snatched him by the back of the coat.

Dib gasped as he was wrenched back sharply, and before he had a chance to react, his head was being twisted around painfully to face — "Gaz?!" he cried. "What the — how did you get in here?!"

"You left the panel wide open behind you," she snarled. "Dib, get your brainless butt out of here right now. The last thing you need is more fodder for your crazy alien obsession."

With a sharp tug, he managed to free himself from her rasp, taking a single step back. "No."

Her eyes burned wide in the dim light. "_What _did you just say to me?!"

"Gaz, it's different this time!" he exclaimed. "These aliens are on _our _side! See, there's this new evil Tallest who wants to destroy the universe, but they're going to—"

"I don't care! You are coming with me if I have to pull off both your arms and drag you home by the bloody bone stumps!"

"I'm _not _just going to sit around at home knowing that we're all in trouble, and that Zim may or may not cause even _more _trouble on top of that!"

Gaz's eye twitched. "Dib, listen to me. I don't _care _what you do. If you want to run around and get yourself killed in outer space, that's not on me. But _Dad _will care if you die, and if he's upset, then I'm upset, so let's get _out _of here!"

Really? She was trying to guilt him with the Dad card? "Dad won't care."

"Yes he will!"

"No he won't! He never does!"

"Back during the Florpus thing—"

"Yeah, okay, he saved us there, but what was the point?! It's not like he believes me about what happened then! It's not like he cares about _anything _that I have to say!"

Her hands tightened into fists, and she seized the front of his shirt. "Oh, that is _it! _We're leaving _right now_, and as soon as we get off this ship, I'm going to make you wish that you were never—"

_THUNK!_

Both brother and sister threw their eyes toward the ceiling. The maintenance hatch that had been open overhead, beaming down a dusty stream of light, had just snapped shut.

"Uh-oh," said Dib.

Gaz opened her mouth, no doubt ready to spew a stream of outraged insults in his direction before beating him flat into the ground, but she didn't get the chance to utter even a single scathing comment. The ship's engine revved into a roar and then a scream, and then the two of them were shoved unceremoniously to the floor by the force of gravity as the Kri ship launched into the Earth's atmosphere.


End file.
